


Peace, Enjoyment, Love, and Pleasure.

by Alexander_Slamilton



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander wants to dance with John, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canon Era, Celebrations, Dancing, Fluffy, Happy Ending, M/M, historical era, post Yorktown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 05:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12952818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexander_Slamilton/pseuds/Alexander_Slamilton
Summary: " “Laurens,” Alexander whispered, “John. Look at me.” John turned and looked at Alexander, illuminated by the low light of a candle and the fire that was now burning in the grate. “I would so much have liked to dance with you tonight, in front of everyone.” "All Alexander wants is for John to not go South and then for them to dance.





	Peace, Enjoyment, Love, and Pleasure.

There were no clouds, the cyanic sky was devoid of everything but the odd bird, black against the blue. Trees, their branches linked together stood proud and tall against the edge of his vision. The grass was warm against his back, the morning sun had heated it. He lay with one arm tucked under his head, propping it up so he could look at the sky and the forest at the same time. The clearing he was in had become his oasis of calm in the chaos that surrounded him; the camp was about a hundred meters to his left, the noise from it filtered through the trees though he had become so used to it now that it melted away. His coat was bunched up and in a pile to his left; a small notebook with a bit of charcoal lay open on the ground, he looked at the bug that was crawling across the yellowing parchment pages. The grass covered him; if anyone had walked in to the clearing, he would not be spotted, the solitude allowed him to relax. Privacy was a hot commodity in the army and he treasured each moment he was left alone in the clearing.

He shifted on to his stomach, grabbing his notebook and charcoal, the pages felt vellum soft as his fingers danced across it. As soon as he picked the coal up lines started to come together, flowing into the picture he could see in his head. The scenes of battle rose up from the white pages, stark black against what had been plain white, chaos and strife coming out of what had been a relatively calm state of mind for him. But John didn't care, his entire being seemed to be in a constant state of tumult these days, the war filtering through ever facet of his being until it was all consuming like the fires at the gates of hell. He looked to his left, the tall grass swayed in the light winds that skittered across the tops of the flowers and trees alike, it did not disturb the calm in the clearing though. John was determined to let this feeling last, to not move until he was ordered to, he’d not had a morning to himself in the better part of a year. 

Even this morning had only come about by accident, Alexander had taken all the work he was supposed to do today and had done it yesterday, how much of an accident this truly was, John was not sure. But his little lion had simply grinned, pushing him out of headquarters with his notebook and charcoal in hand. He had gone willingly, of course he had, John Laurens was no man to refuse Alexander. Now he revelled in the feeling of the sun beating down on him, the grass and soil at his back and not a care in the world, not in the clearing at least. If he closed his eyes and pretended hard enough, he could almost imagine there was no war to go back to, he could almost feel the peace and quiet; though he knew the moment he stepped into headquarters that afternoon he would be consumed by the hurry and desperation of the war. He tried to forget about it, tried to go back to that pretend world where the war did not exist. 

“I did not wish to disturb you, though I fear if I had not alerted you to my presence you’d be quite startled,” Alexander spoke from in front of him, his hands clasped behind his back, a smile on his face. “I made sure to finish my work early so that I could join you here.” He explained gesturing to the clearing. “His Excellency seemed to think I looked ill.” 

“That is because you do not rest, Hamilton, indeed I am glad you elected to join me,” John grinned, “please do lie down, we are here to relax after all. The grass makes for quite a comfortable bed.” 

Hamilton lay down next him, using his coat as a pillow behind his head, he gazed into the sky just as John had done. John could feel him next to him, he could feel the energy Hamilton exuded even though he was resting, it was pulsing through the air between them, the vitality the other man gave off was palpable even in their repose. He wished to lie in that spot until his body was consumed by the earth, until the trees roots took him as their own, until he became the flowers that spotted the grass with colour and life. John wished nothing more than to rest beside Hamilton for eternity, he would give up on nigh on anything for to have that privilege. A soft breath sounded beside him; he turned to face the other man, studying him with an artist’s eye. John knew that Hamilton was objectively beautiful, thick hair curled softly around his shoulders when it was out of its queue, cheekbones stood out sharp and high against his face, his eyes were a particular object of John’s affection, they were expressive and quite exquisite. 

“John, I feel as though I am being examined like a prize pig, is there anything at all that I can do for you?” Hamilton smiled and chuckled at John’s blush. 

“I- Sorry, I was just thinking what a wonderful picture you’d make,” John grinned as Hamilton raised an eyebrow, “I did not mean any offence, dearest Hamilton.”

“If you wish to draw me, all need do is ask,” Alex nodded and gestured for Laurens to begin. “I would not refuse you a thing, my Laurens.” The last sentence was murmured, barely above a whisper, John could almost pretend he did not hear it. Though he had longed for words such as those to come out of Alexander’s mouth for the longest time. 

John said nothing as he reached for his sketchbook and coal, he flipped to the next clean white page as Alex resumed his previous position. His friend had a slim figure, John could almost see the dip of his hipbones through his coat and breeches; his lips were parted, ever so slightly, a small oval shape created in the gap between them. The coal moved as though he were not controlling it, black lines that once created a scene of war now created a thing of beauty, where on other pages there was war and death, here there was peace and happiness. He revelled in his drawing for the first time in so long, he enjoyed what he was doing, for the first time he enjoyed the feeling of marking paper, not with missives of misery and hatred but with a thing of love. He stopped and watched his muse, Alexander was no longer gazing in to the sky, but his eyes were trained on John bright and clear they watched him. John’s hand faltered, his breath caught in his throat, as he met Alex’s gaze, in his eyes there was heat like a dam about to burst and spill forward sweeping John along in its path. They were both still, for what felt like an eternity neither of them spoke or moved, the moment seemed to stretch on for days, week, or perhaps months. Still, not one of them looked away from the other; John did not want to be the one who broke the spell that had settled upon them. Alexander, not one for ever sitting still was the one to move first, shifting so that he sat upright like John. 

“John,” he looked so vulnerable, so open as he spoke, something that John had not seen in Alexander before that moment. “I,” there was a pause, an intake of breath, “I, if we should die, I realise that I would have regrets and I do not think a war is the time to have regrets. In that, John, dearest John, I-“ Alexander was cut off by the sound of trumpets echoing from camp, drums broke out signalling the end of morning shifts and the start of the afternoon. “Shit, we should go. I’m sorry about your drawing.” Alex said, standing and pulling his coat on. 

“What, no it’s okay, I have the outline enough to finish it without you needing to sit for me,” John smiled, standing to, his mind trying to fill in what Alexander had been saying before he’d been interrupted. “Alex, what were you saying?” He asked trying to prompt his friend in to telling him, “something about regret?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Alexander said sharply, he breathed out a short breath, “forget about it, there’re more important things than one man’s stupid wishes, we’re fighting a war after all.” 

“That does not mean that what one man wishes for is unimportant,” John tried though he could see Alexander’s posture shift as they walked, the conversation was over and there would be no revisiting it now, not without significant rebuke. “Very well, I can see you’re not going to speak more on the subject, but Alexander, please if you wish to be happy do not deny your heart.” 

“Perhaps I was born to suffer. Perhaps that is my only lot in life,” Alex sighed, and strode on ahead of John, leaving the other to ponder what he’d meant. 

***

“Do not go,” Alex pleaded, twining his fingers in the sleeve of John’s shirt, “we’ve won the war, it’s over, do not go to another fight.” 

“They are orders, Alex,” John sighed, wrenching his sleeve from Alex’s grip, “I cannot disobey them.” 

“Then speak to General Washington, he wants you in Philadelphia as much as I do.” Alex was practically begging, his eyes were wide and fearful, “if you go South, you will not return. I can feel it, John, please I beg you. Do not go to the South. We have fought to make America free and we accomplished that together, think of what we can do if we remain so.” 

“I-“ John paused, he had never seen Alex so desperate before, but he turned to his packing, looking at the lacklustre way he’d thrown his things in his trunk. “I suppose you’re right. These are not orders that give me joy to fill; for the first time since I took up my commission, I resent the army and the war for giving me orders. There is no joy in it anymore.” 

“That is because the war is done,” Alexander nodded, drawing John away from his trunk slowly, “let us speak to Washington, together we can serve this country in another way, like we always have, hand in hand. We can fight together and make America happy.” 

“The war is not done in the South though,” John sighed, “I suppose, however, that I would be more use being a temperance to you. We counter each other well,” he sat on the bed next to him, holding his head in his hands. “The war is over for me.” 

“The war is over for us,” Alexander sat next to him, their knees knocking together, “we will find another way to serve out country. We have fought for too long in the field of war, we have done our duty, above and beyond it. Let us move on. We should go to Washington now, before tonights celebrations. He would be more amenable at the moment.” 

“You’re right, as often you are. There are other ways in which I can serve my country, instead of spilling my blood,” John sighed, patting Alexander on the knee, “I wish to, as you say, put on the toga. It’s time I worked to make my country happy, now that she is free.”

They sat there for a few moments, next to each other, savouring the moment; each trying to drag it out, pretending that they did not have move. It took what felt like hours for Alexander to give in and lean his head on John’s shoulder, a touch that could simply be a move of friendship; not the feeling that hovered between them, that had hovered between them since they'd first met. The small spark of tension that had seemed at first to simmer was now boiling, soon to spill over into the real world. A thousand tender moments flitted by the two men as they sat in the tent, side by side in companionable silence. They sat shoulder to shoulder as they had fought together in so many tumultuous and terrifying battles; now though, there were no more battles, there was no more fighting for them to do. Hamilton’s head was a welcome weight on John’s shoulder, it grounded him more firmly to this earth, to the moment in which there were in; John reached a hand to Alex’s hair taking some strands between his fingers. 

“You said, once, so long ago now, that you would never leave me Laurens,” Alex murmured in to John’s neck, his breath hot against John’s skin, “you promised me you’d never leave, and I intend to see that promise kept.” 

“Of course, my dearest, I will never leave you,” John said pressing a kiss to Alexander’s head, “I will not leave. Ever. Even if you beg me to go, I will stay for when you come back to me; I will be there, always.” 

“Laurens,” Alexander whispered, “my Laurens.” John decided then and there that he quite liked the sound of that. 

“Your Laurens,” he smiled, as he said the words. 

“We should go,” Alex started to extricate himself, “His Excellency will be starting to prepare himself soon and we would not want to disturb him.”

“You’re right,” John nodded for the second time that evening, “we should away, I doubt we’ll have time to come back here before the celebrations are over; are you quite ready?” 

Alexander nodded and they started out of the room, towards the General’s own quarters which were just down the hall. The aides and the General had been posted there since before Yorktown and it had quite become like home for all of them. They bumped into several of their fellows, all of whom were busy getting ready for the celebrations taking place that night; a feast for the generals and officers, and then a ball, with music and dancing the likes of which had not been seen since before the war. Tench Tilghman nearly walked into them as they strode down the corridor, he was so focussed on the letter in front of him that he did not notice them walking his way. He only muttered a fleeting apology, slapping John on the back, before he was bustling off down the corridor. Soon enough they found themselves in front of the General’s door. 

“You should go alone,” Alex said, looking at John in the corridor, only lit by brackets of candles. “He should see this as being entirely your wish; not mine for you.” 

“You are so full of good ideas tonight, Alexander,” John grinned and nodded as he raised his fist to the door, “go, I will tell you the full of it later.” He knocked thrice upon the wood as hastened back down the corridor. 

“Enter,” Washington said from inside, “Ah, Colonel Laurens, a pleasure to see you. Come in.”

“Likewise, Sir,” Laurens walked into the room and stood to attention as the General put down the quill he was writing with. 

“At ease, Colonel,” Washington nodded and gestured for John to sit opposite him. “What is it that I can help you with?”   
“Sir, I wish to talk of my posting to South Carolina, after tonight,” John swallowed, hoping that the General would not remember how he had once begged for another posting.

“What of it? I was under the impression that you were itching for another battle? Was I, perhaps mistaken in my posting you there?” Washington asked, a faint smile at the edges of his lips. 

“I- I have had, I think a change of heart. I think that I would best serve our young country with the pen and ink rather than the sword and musket.” John decided to get it over with, “I wish for you to allow me to resign my commission.” 

“I see, so I was indeed mistaken,” Washington nodded, his hand coming up to trace the line of his jaw, “I suppose it has been known to happen. If I may enquire about your next course of action, if I allow you to resign your command, what are you planning to do?” 

“I was, perhaps going to help Colonel Hamilton,” John gestured sheepishly, “he asked me if I would be amenable to opening a law firm with him.” 

“Ah, I might have guessed as much,” Washington smiled in full force, “only Colonel Hamilton would be enough to pull you away from the heat of battle. Very well, Colonel, you are permitted to resign you commission after tonight. Though I would not be surprised if the army did not call on you if the occasion should arise.” 

“If the army has any need of my services I would gladly give them,” John agreed, “though I hope not to be called upon for a few years yet, Sir. This war has quite taken the enjoyment of it all away from me, I fear.” 

“Indeed for me too, son, now away with you; make sure to enjoy yourself tonight, it will be a pleasure to celebrate the end of the war with you and the other men in my service.” Washington waved John away, with a fatherly smile, “and tell Colonel Hamilton that his powers of persuasion never cease to amaze me.” 

John beat a hasty retreat after that, going back to the room he shared with Alex with a sheepish grin on his face. Alexander looked up at him when he came in, a questioning eyebrow raised, his face was shrouded in shadow caused by the waning candle light, in such a way that he looked like some sort of fantastical illusion. John pretended to be angry, frowning as he shut the door, and going to sit next to Alex who’d taken up his place on the bed again. 

“He didn’t keep you in did he? You’re not still going to the South are you? He accepted your resignation, did he not?” Alexander spewed questions forth in the way he often did to hide his nerves. 

“Relax, dearest boy, he accepted my resignation with grace and dignity, informing me that I am to be free of the army after tonight,” John laughed as Alex relaxed, his shoulders slumping in relief, “I am not going South, I am going to Philadelphia with you, and then on to whatever great adventure I next experience in your company.” 

“Thank God, thank all that is good and right in this world that you are not going South.” Alexander moved forward, rising up off the bed and pressing his forehead against John’s, “My Laurens, I could not think of a better way to spend the rest of my than in your company.”

“Alex, I-,” John started, is mouth going slack; heat pooling somewhere deep inside him, a blush rising like steam across his freckled cheeks. 

“Boys! My friends, it is time to get outrageously drunk and dance the night away with many beautiful women, and the finest specimens of gentlemen I ever did see. Tonight promises to be better than any of Steuben’s breeches-free parties, lads,” They were interrupted by Lafayette sashaying into the room with a large grin on his face, white powdered wig slightly askew already. “I am sorry, friends, I appear to be interrupting something.” 

“It seems you are ahead of us with the wine, already Gilbert, that will simply not do; pass me the bottle and let me partake in this revelry,” Alexander jumped away from John, though a brush of his hand against the back of John’s knuckles let him know that they would finish the conversation later. He poured the wine into two tin flagons, and handed one to John. “To peace! To liberty! And to our youth!” He raised his flagon, laughing as he took a large swig, John brought the wine to his lips smelling the fruit and smoke of the barrel. 

“To peace, liberty, and youth!” The other two men echoed before drinking themselves, Lafayette staggering slightly as he drank his share straight out the bottle. 

“Laurens, it is your turn to toast,” Lafayette slurred slightly, is accent becoming more pronounced as it often did when he was drunk. 

“Very well, a moment please,” John laughed and paused, taking his time to think up something as meaningful as Alexander’s. “To our friendship! From the sorrow of war is forged and bond of brotherhood that neither time nor distance will break.” He looked in to Alexander’s eyes and raised his flagon, between them passed a smile. 

“To friendship!” Alex and Lafayette said, drinking deeply.

“I fear I am much too drunk to think up a toast that would even slightly compare to yours,” Lafayette said, swaying on the spot, “we should make our way to the feast, should we not?” 

“Aye, to the feast then,” John slung an arm around Lafayette’s shoulders, guiding him to the door and the celebrations, Alexander on the Frenchman’s other side. 

They entered the hall where the feast was to be, the other officers and aides were there, talking and drinking; they were all still standing as the food was being placed on the table. Lafayette left John’s side to go and talk to Steuben, who was laughing at something General Knox was talking about. John and Alex were arrested by James McHenry and Richard Meade, their fellow aides, they conversed merrily before Washington tapped his glass with his spoon. 

“Men, my men, my loyal men; the war is over and it is my honour to have had you by my side for it. Without each and every one of you, I fear the outcome of this war would have been far different. It is has been the greatest honour of my life, men, to lead gentlemen such as yourselves in to battle.” Washington’s gaze flitted over the crowd. “I propose a toast,” he raised his glass, “To peace! To hope! And to victory!” 

“Peace, hope, and victory,” the men around them laughed and raised their glasses.

“May God bless the United States of America,” Washington smiled, “let us feast and celebrate what we have achieved.” The General sat down at the head of the table, resting his arms on the wood table. 

John, Alex, and the other aides were sat just down from General Knox and General Greene, about halfway up the table. Lafayette was by Washington’s right hand, he smiled at them raising his glass, which Alexander was pleased to see was filled with water; not wine. John sniggered as Alex pointed this out to him, and they both raised their glasses back to their friend. General Von Steuben put his hand on John’s shoulder, as he took his seat next to him. 

“My friend,” he said in French, “it is a pleasure to celebrate such an achievement with you. Indeed it was an honour to serve alongside a man of your caliber; you too Little Lion,” Steuben nodded at Alexander, “I am glad to have met and known you over these past years; I do so hope that our friendship will extend beyond this war?” 

“Of course, General Von Steuben, the honour has been all mine,” John said also in French, “I have never seen a man train troops to such perfection, as yourself. Truly you should write a book on it, Sir.” 

“Mayhaps I will, Colonel Laurens, mayhaps I will,” Von Steuben laughed, patting John on the back and taking a drink from his wine. 

The evening carried on in much the same vein, John laughed and talked and drank the time away. They ate well, for the first time in what felt like, and probably was, years; chicken broth with vegetables, ham, and real meat, and venison pie, with a rich gravy and potatoes. Bread and cheese and wine were served by the gallon and conversation flowed freely. 

“Now, tell me, Hamilton; what do you plan to do now that the war is over and you are free, get a wife perhaps? Change the world?” General Knox leaned over to talk to Alexander, who’s face brightened, Knox had always been a favourite of Alex’s. 

“A wife? Not yet, I feel I have so much more to do before I tie myself down to a life of family, there was a girls but I fear she was a passing fancy. Changing the world? General, I think that has already been done,” Alexander gestured around him, “all the men in this room can cross that off their lists. Perhaps I will set my eyes closer to home, I studied the law in King’s College until the war took me away from it, I will pass the bar and practice what I studied. And maybe, I can bring some good to our young nation.” 

“Well said,” Knox nodded, “if you ever wished to go into politics, Hamilton, you would do well. You have a gift with words.” Knox then turned to John, a twinkle in his eye, “and you Laurens? I heard you were to go South tomorrow to fight in the Carolinas.”

“No, Sir, I resigned my commission, as of tomorrow I am no longer part of the Continental Army,” John shook his head. “I am to accompany Colonel Hamilton to Philadelphia, I also studied the law in Geneva and London. I have ambitions to help Alexander in his campaign to bring some small bit of good to this country, Sir.” John said, watching the way the other General looked between them. 

“A formidable pair you two will make, I am sure this country will see much from the both of you,” Knox smiled, “remind me not to meet you two in court.” 

“Yes, Sir,” John laughed. 

“Major Tallmadge, what will become of you after tomorrow?” Alex turned to the young man sitting next to him, John knew him well, he’d often seen Benjamin Tallmadge around headquarters, they had even worked together on several occasions, passing intelligence between each other. 

“I wish to teach,” Ben said, smiling as he did so, “I believe the future of a country lies in its young people, the next generation; I think I can do much good instilling the virtues we all fought hard for in our youths.” 

“A true and noble cause,” Knox nodded, “I think you should do well at that endeavour, Major.” 

The feast was over when the clock struck ten and they all moved from the dinning room to the ball room, where there were flowers that lined the walls and oil lamps, candles and a roaring fire that lit the room and kept it warm. The shutters were drawn, covering the dark sky and hiding the weather from view, the walls were painted white and the ceilings were double the height of the ones in John’s quarters. The unpolished wood floors were not covered with carpets or rugs, instead a light layer of sawdust was spread over them; John looked about the room for Alex as he entered, feeling desperately cutoff from his friends. A group of ladies was gathered in the corner of the room, they turned and looked at him as he walked in their vague direction, one of them had dark hair and brown eyes, she smiled at him and inclined her head. 

“You should ask her to dance,” Alex appeared, “look at her, she quite clearly wishes to dance; and she is looking right at you.”

“Alexander,” John sighed, “I am no dancer.” 

“Nonsense, you are a fine dancer, I’ve seen you take to the floor many a time. Now stop prevaricating and go and sweep her off her feet.” Alexander practically pushed John towards the ladies, taking a small redheaded girl, whom he clearly knew, to the floor as John was introduced to the lady with dark hair by Martha Washington. 

“John Laurens, this is Miss Margarita Schuyler, daughter of Phillip Schuyler,” Martha nodded, as she indicated the girl who’d smiled at John. 

“Miss Schuyler, it would be my honour if I may have this dance with you,” John said, offering his hand. 

“Please, call me Peggy,” she smiled at him, taking his hand, “Miss Schuyler makes me sound so old. It is a pleasure to meet you John Laurens.” She laughed as John lead her to the floor. 

He danced most of the night away, catching only the barest glimpse of Alexander, who seemed to be having as much luck with the women as he usually did. John looked at him, dancing with some other dark haired woman, and wished he could be in her place; dancing with Alex would be the singularly most enjoyable thing he ever would experience, he knew they would never dance with each other. He knew it could never be, and yet his very soul wished for it, his entire being yearned to be held in Alexander’s arms. The night was not over until the clock on the wall chimed three, and John was on his twentieth dance, with Peggy for the second time. 

“It has been an honour Miss- Peggy,” John smiled at her, “allow me to perhaps write you?” He asked, he had truly enjoyed her company, she conversed easily with him and they did seem to have a fair bit in common.

“The pleasure and honour has been all mine, Colonel Laurens, and it would bring great to me should you write,” she said, she leaned in close, bringing her fan up to cover their faces,“though, I would talk to him, let him know how you feel.” She said. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” John reeled backwards, surely, he thought, he had bee more subtle than that.

“Of course you do not,” Peggy smiled and touched him lightly on the shoulder, her delicate hand squeezing him slightly. “Of course you do not. You have only had eyes for one person in this room for the entire evening, Colonel Laurens, and it was certainly not me, but of course you have no idea what I mean.” And then she was leaving, arm in arm with two other girls who looked so much like her that they must have been her sisters. 

John stood in the middle of the hall, watching her go, her yellow dress swaying as her hips moved, the white petticoat underneath brushed the floor. He stood there and watched at the hall emptied slowly, the generals and other officers, either leaving with their wives or bidding goodbye to the ladies they had danced with. There would be, no doubt more duties for the men to perform in the service of their country and unbreakable bonds of friendships had been formed. He waited there until Alexander came up to him, placing a discreet hand on his lower back. 

“Come, Laurens, to bed with us,” he said, placing a half finished glass of madeira on a side table, before subtly guiding John out of the ballroom and back to their quarters. 

When they got back to their rooms, John busied himself with lighting the fire in the grate, he took a shaky breath the words Peggy had said to him ringing in his head. He knew what she meant as soon as she said it, it had froze his heart, sent dread down his spine, he could not have whispers of sodomy flitting around. His fingers shook as he gripped the poker and pushed the coal around trying to get the flames rising higher. 

“Laurens,” Alexander whispered, “John. Look at me.” John turned and looked at Alexander, illuminated by the low light of a candle and the fire that was now burning in the grate. “I would so much have liked to dance with you tonight, in front of everyone.” 

“You are drunk, Alexander,” John laughed, “that would never happen, there is no point in wishing for it.” 

“John, this is no alcohol fuelled confession,” Alexander walked towards him back John up against the wall by the fireplace, “there is no drink running through my veins. I wish I could have danced with you in that hall, I had to keep dancing with the women as to keep my hands off you.”

“Alex, this is wrong, we could be hanged-“

“There is no one in this room save for us two, the only people around us are drunk an asleep. Do not pretend that you do not want this Laurens, I saw you looking at me at every opportunity.” Alexander paused, then he smiled and held out his hand, “dance with me now, John Laurens.” 

“I- I-“ John stuttered looking at Alex’s outstretched hand, his delicate piano player’s fingers and took it in his, “fine, Colonel Hamilton I will dance with you.” 

Alexander’s grin lit up the room as they moved closer together, John could feel Alex’s body heat through his clothes, as they swayed together. Alexander was warm and steady next to him, one of his hands curled around John’s; the other rested at his waist. He looked up at Alex, who smiled and leant his forehead against John’s. 

“There is nothing in the world that I treasure as I do you, my dearest Laurens,” he said. “I had to refuse Elizabeth, so that I might be able to eek out the pretence of being a bachelor a little further. So that we could live together in Philadelphia and not arouse suspicion. I would not be without you.” 

“Alexander, this- I don’t know what to say,” John murmured, gazing in to Alexander’s eyes, “only that I think I know what you are saying and that I feel the same.” 

“My Laurens, I think, perhaps, I might have fallen in love with you.” Alex whispered, one hand coming up to cup John’s cheek, his thumb stroking along John’s cheekbone. The other hand letting go of John’s hand and running down the length of his arm. There was no space between them, and Alex’s hand was back in his, their fingers entwining slowly. Alexander had to look up at John, his chin tilting upwards, “there is so much to learn about you through touch, I cannot wait to find out everything.” 

John finally unfroze enough so to touch Alexander back, a small moan being his reward as he moved his hands along the lines of Alexander’s body. There were no soft curves there, hard lines and new stubble covered Alex’s face, John found that he quite liked the change. Chest pounding, hearth thrumming underneath the surface of his skin, so hard that John was sure Alex would feel it, their faces came together, warm lips touching.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me how I did, I've not written lams for so long I wasn't sure how their dynamic would work, so comments would be helpful. I always seem to come crawling back to this pairing, however, I'm not sure why but I hope you enjoyed this. 
> 
> Kudos and comments keep me writing, and are very much appreciated.


End file.
